Crossing Boundaries
by spiraledthoughts
Summary: Love is a hindrance for their own personal gain, but to meet your own match might change all that. Includes:escort!Sebastian and widow!Santana


**Making my comeback because DWTD is on hiatus. Please don't kill me.**

**Disclaimer: I wish I own Glee, but I don't. Sadly.**

* * *

It had been months when Sebastian started doing this job, it wasn't really his style, but hell, the sex is _sometimes_ good and his customers pay nicely. What's not to like?

He lingers at some random luxurious lobby in another five-star hotel he doesn't even bother checking the name, drinking wine and chatting inconspicuously. Several women have been eyeing him; he catches them, winking at some o suggestively while the others are ignored completely. He may be forced to do this, but he's still a selfish douche that gets picky when it comes to his customers, sometimes he brushes them off, even if they promise to pay generously.

His co-worker, Nick, has noticed this and approached him, "Look man, you can't be picky about these things, and I know you know you're irresistible, but you're not irreplaceable. These ladies are lonely with their wad of cash and they need some Sebastian lovin'. You better get to them, before they get cranky."

After sipping his wine, he sighed. "There's nothing wrong with playing hard to get Nick, seriously, you should try it some time," He knows what Nick was talking about, but he just didn't feel like picking out his prey for the night. Instead he mindlessly swirled his wine on the wineglass, trying to check the area. It wasn't a good night and the women are all old hags.

These 'old hags' as Sebastian calls them, were once trophy wives, which unfortunately are well past their prime years, their husbands leave them lonely at their mansions with only money to accompany them and look for younger women to devour. And this is where Sebastian's work comes in.

A blonde woman in a red dress in her 40's approached him from behind, caressing his chest, he looked at her and decided she was the best he was going to get for tonight, "Hey baby," he stroked her face,

"On va te un endroit agréable, hein?" purring in her ear. Right on cue, the woman blushed at his words and gestures, giggling shyly. With that, the deal is sealed.

She pulled his tie and whispered in his ears, "Why yes, I'd like that," before biting on his earlobes. An eyebrow raised, he turned to look at the woman, smirking devilishly. He led her inside the elevator, as the doors have closed in on them he pushed her against the wall, "You know I only take cash darling," his voice getting husky by the minute.

She reached in her purse and put a wad of cash inside his coat, "Deposit of the good things to come." She kissed his cheek, "There's more of where that came from."

As they entered the room, he didn't even hesitate to push the woman against the wall again, hands humming on the straps of her dress.

But the woman was way ahead of him, he was now reduced to his dress shirt, the first few already unbuttoned , his tie now lost somewhere around the room, and her arms seemed permanently attached to his neck, kissing him sloppily on the mouth.

He could only wish that this be already done with.

Sebastian awoke to the sound of the shower on the side of the room; by his bedside he found a clock that read the time, 2:05 am. Lying beside it he found a note and another chunk of cash.

_Round Two at the Shower?_

_xoxo, _

_Hazel_

He laughed, took the cash and dressed quickly.

By the time Hazel got out of the shower, the only thing she saw was the unkempt bed, and a note.

_Pity fucks can only get you so far darling. And to be honest, I'm really not into that, or you. Mostly you though. Sorry ;)_

_-SS_

* * *

Hundreds of people surrounded the coffin laid out at South Ville Cemetery, paying their respects and giving condolences to the family, or rather, to the wife left behind.

"…such a good man."

"Death comes when comes when you least expect it"

"Are you going to be okay?"

"He's definitely always with you, watching over you."

At the coffin was a very long line of relatives, friends, colleagues, and even rivals, offering them of their condolences even though they were least likely affected by the whole situation, on the contrary , they are probably interested with the wealth up for inheritance. Inside the coffin was a man named Mr. Wellington, Charles Wellington to be precise. He was the former CEO of the Wellington Empire, famous for its chain of five-star hotels that is expanding globally for the past 15 years of its existence. When the man had a sudden heart attack three days ago, the whole elite society has been shaken to its core. His business has been the deus ex machina of their generation, as his family was about to fall into the pits of bankruptcy, his business suddenly made groundbreaking propositions and affiliations, that if anything, made him all the more richer than he could ever be. He left no heir for the company, only his young wife that seemed suddenly suspicious among the greedy bunch that wanted the wealth all for themselves.

In front of the casket was a woman in her mid-20's her head bowed down, with her dark flowing locks surrounding her face, void of any emotion, except of the tear-stained tracks stamped on her cheeks. This woman goes by the name of Santana Lopez, wife of the late Charles Wellington. She was wearing big sunglasses, to hide her bright red puffy eyes from crying too much, well, at least that's what she wants the crowd to think of it.

That night, after the burial, she's now sitting inside his study, along with his lawyer that will read his will together with his closest nephews and nieces that are hoping to get even a wee bit of his inheritance out of him, in the end it's all about money.

"I give all my tangible personal property and all policies and proceeds of insurance covering such property, to my wife, Santana…."

And she sobs, stating that she didn't want the money but her husband back. The nephews and nieces give their defeated sigh, murmuring gold-digger and bitch behind her back. As they left her alone in the study to cry some more, nobody saw the smirk she wore immediately after. She let the comments fly by her. It's true after all, and besides they're no better than her, except they're stupid. Grabbing her phone, she speed dialed her best friends, Brittany and Quinn, "Its girl's night out bitches. Remember the rule, _always_ dress to impress."

Santana didn't quite understand what Quinn and Brittany were talking about as they led her inside the lobby of one her husband's long chain of hotels in the city, it was something about "keeping up the good wife façade" and "mourning the right way". But to be honest, she didn't give two shits about any of those. She was finally free and she wanted to enjoy the life of a young, rich, hot widow. Not be guilt-tripped by the last remnants of the old geezer she dare called her 'husband'.

She was being tugged by Brittany as they lead her in the deeper part of the lobby she didn't even know that existed in there. She pulled her arm off of Brittany, determined to find answers. "Alright, hold the fuck up, I invited you guys for a girls' night out and you drag me out here? Really?"

"We're just looking out for you Santana."

"How is dragging my ass on my dead husband's hotel 'looking out for me' exactly?" She crossed her arms, clearly not intending to move until she gets some answers.

Quinn moved in between them, "Calm down Santana. Alright, ever heard of the Dalton Agency?"

Santana raised an eyebrow. "You mean that gigolo syndicate? Oh honey that ain't my thing. I may be a widow, but trust me I'm not desperate. There are many guys out there willing to tap this." She smacked her ass for emphasis.

Brittany piped in, "It's actually an escort service agency Santana."

"Right, escort, gigolo or prostitute, doesn't matter, they're same shit. And how is that supposed to help me? I'm not following." She was tapping her foot impatiently; she wanted clubs and not this drab.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "This Dalton Agency will help you 'get loose' for the time being. With your reputation as the next CEO of Wellington Empire, paparazzi are sure to follow you. And Dalton Agency takes care of all that."

"In fact, we've already reserved you one Sannie!" Brittany clapped excitedly. She snapped her fingers, "Guards, would you please lead Mrs. Wellington to her room please."

Without any chance to protest, she was already surrounded and led inside the elevator, she planned to run away, but suddenly saw paparazzi lurking around the lobby. It'd be a smart move not to make any scene. Escape is a motion she'll have to plan for later.

Behind her she heard Brittany shouting, "We paid to be with you for a week! That better not go to waste!" She only groaned in response.

She entered the suite she was dropped off to. Inside was where she found a tall, brunette facing the balcony. He noticed her presence and turned his face towards her, she suddenly met this annoying smirk he wore, and his attractive face, but what captured her most were his deep jaded eyes, containing the most beautiful shades of green she'd ever seen in her entire life. _Don't be fooled Santana, he's still a gigolo._ He walked towards her and grabbed her closer to him, kissing the back of her hands as he did so. "Mrs. Wellington, I've been instructed to 'entertain' you for the time being." He winked at her.

Santana pulled her hand away immediately, "Look Twink, I'm not interested in you or your entertainment of any kind. But just so you know, I'm not down in any of that. So stop wasting your time and mine and just go look for sad old widows who's actually desperate."

Sebastian put his hands inside his pockets, with eyebrows raised. This is a rare case for him, playing hard to get, and a feisty one at that. It had been his first time to see her types and he's too intrigued to let her go. Also, he's not one to abandon the job. He decided a different approach might do the job. He suddenly chuckled, his eyes glinting against the light. "Oh, I know what this is all about. Your skills getting rusty already? I mean, I couldn't blame you though, sleeping with that guy is no better than sleeping with a sack of potatoes. It's okay to be shy sweetheart."

Santana clearly hadn't met someone as bigger of an ass as she is right now, but this man right in front of her is already beginning to prove her otherwise. "And what exactly do you know about skills asshat? I mean for all we know I'm not the one banging every type of sack of potatoes here. So I'm pretty sure that the best skills you've got are your hands prepping up that little Disney-prince haircut of yours."

Sebastian's smirk was widening. This Mrs. Wellington is a very feisty one in deed, and he's having the time of his life. Just little more push and pull, and he'll have her crumbling on his feet. "What a colorful language you have there, Mrs. Wellington, but I'll have you know that this 'asshat' you're referring to right here brings home the bacon for being such a wonderful company." He started walking towards her and cornered her by the door. He brushed the hair off her face, and leaned in dangerously close. "Wouldn't you like to test me out first?"

"I swear to God if you called me Mrs. Wellington one more time I'm going to show you how we Latina's kick-ass and trust me honey you wouldn't want to go there." She was pursing her lips because as longs as she keeps being with this guy her blood boils over and over again. But somehow she didn't even know how he managed to corner her and all of a sudden he brushes her hair away and she feels his fingers on her skin and her blood turns hot and cold all at the same time and she felt shivers down her spine. "It might be up for consideration if it involves me and you and hell long line of alcohol." She pushed him backwards.

"If you wanted alcohol you could've told me sooner." Sebastian grabbed her hand and led her to the door, "Come along now, sweetheart." They entered the elevator and Sebastian hit B1.

She rolled her eyes at the nickname thrown at her. "Seriously your nicknames are making me nauseous, I have a name, and it's Santana Lopez." She didn't question him any further as he grabbed her hand and whisked her to the elevator. "This better be worth my time."

"This nickname calling is a two-way street and I'm not complaining from yours. The name is Sebastian Smythe, but calling me hottie is an option too." He winked at her. "But of course, I am now officially your date tonight, and we'll be the hottest couple there." He held her waist and pulled her closer to him, the elevator's walls were mirrors and he admired how they complement each other.

Santana's words got stuck at her throat when he pulled her close to his side, this man, was a total wonder to her, and it's not every day that you make one Santana Lopez speechless. She let him be and draped her arms around his as well.

The elevator dinged as they arrived at B1, the doors opened and revealed inside a club, that's practically filled with mass of bodies, either from dancing, drinking, or well, both. Santana's smirk was on full-view, _Now this is my kinda scene._ She turned her attention to the man beside her, "Well, aren't you supposed to defend your 'most wonderful company' position or was I just hearing things?"

"Patience princess, we've got all night." Sebastian led her at the bar, and offers her a seat at the counter. "Hunt!" he called. The bartender looked up and their direction, and headed towards them. "Santana, this is my friend Hunter right here, he makes the craziest concoctions of alcohol to buzz your veins, so I suggest you tone down on drinking every experiment he offers. And Hunt, this is my date for the night, Santana Lopez."

Hunter flashed Santana a smile, and took in her appearance. He offered his hands, and shook hers. "I'm Hunter, and don't listen to him, he's just a pussy that can't handle his alcohol."

"I'm Santana." She chuckled at his next words. "Well I haven't seen anything yet but he definitely looks the part." They both laughed.

Sebastian cleared his throat. "In my defense that was because your Prairie Fire was buzzed with something else, and that was the first time I blacked out from drinking."

"Still sounds like you're being a pussy."

"That's because you haven't tasted it yet. I bet you a hundred bucks you wouldn't be able to walk straight when you take it. Oh and might I add that I've had several shots of every drink his menu had offered when I took it." Sebastian mused.

Santana arched her eyebrows, and spun her seat to directly face him. "Is that a challenge Smythe? Because I'm telling you right here that your pretty ass will be down hard."

Sebastian snorted, "It's on woman." He faced Hunter in his seat. "You know the drill Hunt."

Without any word Hunter proceeded to do his work, and mixed every type of alcohol he had in his counter, it looked splendid. Within the first few minutes he served them a platter of 10 glass shots, a pair for each kind. "Just finish these first and then I'll be the judge if you're ready for my Prairie Fire."

"Well then, ladies first?" Sebastian pushed the tray on her direction.

"I'd prefer we take it at the same time." And Santana pushed the tray back to him.

"All right princess, since you insist." He took both shot glasses and handed one to her. He raised his glass, "Cheers."

And then the drinking game began, taking down one shot after the other. Santana's first shot stung a bit, the liquid leaving a fiery trail down her throat. After a few more shots, the tray began to change quickly. And she was having so much fun; Smythe was actually telling the truth of being such a wonderful company. They finished their third tray, and maybe Santana was beyond borderline tipsy, because she laughs at every joke Sebastian makes, even some of his words are mere blurs in her ears. But that Prairie Fire was still going down her throat if that's the last thing she'll ever do.

"Shall we go to the dance floor first before resuming this contest?"

That was all Santana needed to hear before grabbing his arm and pulled themselves to the massive pile of bodies dancing to the beat of the music. She draped her arms on his neck, and flushed her body against his. "Glad to know you're a man of your word Smythe, I'm actually having fun."

Sebastian snaked her arms around her waist, determined to keep her body in close contact with his. "Of course I am what made you think otherwise?" Her soft body grinding against his was definitely something Sebastian appreciated, and soon his hands were going lower and lower on her hips. Then he pinched her ass. The body of this woman was going to be the death of him.

Santana jumped a bit when he pinched her ass, and it was probably the crazy amount of alcohol surging through her veins, but she was fucking turned on. "You fucking pervert." She'll be damned if she let Smythe win this round, she countered by pulling his tie, so that their faces leveled each other, and she grazed her lips over his, "You've been a naughty boy Sebastian, I'm afraid that you'll have to get punished dearly for that."

Up close with her face, Sebastian definitely took note of how she looks even more stunning. But then he felt her breath so close to his face, her scent wafting in the air with the mix of tequila and vanilla in her wake that made his decisions fuzzy. Soon he found himself grabbing her face, kissing her languidly on the mouth. She was sinfully delicious against his mouth, and if oxygen wasn't an option, he'd definitely be kissing her all night.

Santana's mind was only swimming with thoughts of how pitifully turned on she was right now, and the fire in her body was rapidly running down her core. She tugged at his hair to pull his face closer to her, without breaking the contact between their lips. His moan finally snapped her, and pulled away. "Wouldn't you like to continue this upstairs?"

Her insanely hot body grinding against his, the mix of tequila and vodka swimming in his mouth as he kissed her, her involuntary licks on his upper lips, Sebastian felt them all, and it felt good in all the right places. Hid slacks began to suddenly feel tightening around him. But what tipped him over the edge were her fingers, raking on his carefully mussed hair that it elicited a deep moan from his throat. Her last words, making it clear what she wanted. His voice grew husky, "Your wish is my command Princess." He held her hands once more, and led the way to the elevator, the Prairie Fire being forgotten, as their lust-induced state began to consume them more by the minute.

They aren't even entered the suite yet and Santana's already got Sebastian pinned against the wall, kissing him ferociously, her hand tugging at his hair.

Sebastian pulled away, his breathing uneven, "Don't you want to get inside first?"

"Can't we just do it heeeeere?" Santana was clinging on to him for dear life.

With the weight of Santana being a hindrance, Sebastian struggled to open the door for them. Deciding that the bed was still too far away from the door, he scooped her and carried her bridal style to the bed. Santana's open-mouthed kisses on his neck might have made him walk faster than his casual strides. He laid her down and hovered above her body, parting her legs with his knees, "What do you want princess?"

"Do you really need ask the obvious?"

"What was that?" He kissed the spot below her ears, sucking and nipping at it. "I think I didn't quite hear it."

"Oh I don't know I'm just wet over here and maybe that lamp might do the trick. " She rolled her eyes, but then she felt his lips on her neck and it felt like fire grazing her skin, a little moan escaped her mouth. "You are a fucking tease Smythe, you know I want you so much right now." She growled in her breath, pulling his jacket and throwing them on the floor. She loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. "I want you so bad."

Santana's words were like music to his ears, she was beginning to give in to him and it was a beautiful sight. His fingers have begun tugging and pulling at the zippers of her dress, all the while and not letting his lips leave her delectable skin. "That's more I like it." He removed her dress of her body, and threw it together with his clothes. The lingerie she wore was to his liking, red was a powerful color and it suited her so much. "The devil in red has never looked so ravishing, but you without it, might look better." He unclasped her bra, and took her breast in his hands. Soon his lips were trailing kisses across her body downward, until he reached below her abdomen. He kissed her inner thighs, licking them, his hands parting her legs even more. He breathed in front of her sex, touching her above the fabric. He felt her wetness and this just made him harder. He removed them and put his fingers inside her, it was slick and made it easier to slide in her easily; he thrust in and out of her, listening to her moans just to fit to her liking.

Santana's breath just got heavier as she felt Sebastian working all over her body. His hands, lips, his everything just sent her body on fire. She felt him harden against her, and it made her proud that she managed to a strong reaction from him. When he came up to kiss her on her mouth once again, her hands grabbed on his belt and unbuckled them, when he was down to his boxers when she let her hands crawl up inside it. She stroked his length, her fingers moving slowly around it. She felt Sebastian tug at her hands as he began to remove his boxers. He straddled her and parted her legs. He positioned himself in front of her, his tip teasing at her entrance. "Has anyone told you how hot you are?"

Before Santana even managed to reply back he reached down and kissed her again, her mind going wild at his teasing. But without any warning what so ever he slammed hard in her. Her eyes went wild at the sensation of him filling her up and all the right at the right places, her fingers scratching his back.

Sebastian mind was in frenzy as he entered her, she was tight around him as he felt all her walls clench, and it was too much even for him to take. He let her adjust for a while, and he began to pound in and out for her, only their pants and slapping skin were the only sounds echoing inside the room.

Her hands scratching his back were driving him over the edge, and he knew he was close, he leaned in her ear, whispering ever so lightly, "Come with me princess." His hands reaching down on her folds, with a plan to stimulate her even more.

Maybe it was his fingers, or his seductive voice in her ear that finally made her let go, she felt him come undone together with her and it felt fucking fantastic.

Coming with a customer was something he never did before, and being with Santana just made him cross off things from his list of firsts. He pulled out of Santana, and made himself comfortable beside her, he spooned her, tucking them both underneath the cover he let himself bury his face on her hair, letting her scent infiltrate his nostrils. He kissed her cheeks before letting the darkness consume him.

Santana woke up, and found the bed empty. Her head pounded because of all the alcohol she consumed last night. Then she noticed her beside, a glass of water, an aspirin, and a note.

_Do you doubt my wonderful company now?_

_xxx-xxxx _

_Call me soon Princess ;)_

_-SS_

She admired his confidence, and saved his number for future purposes.

* * *

So maybe this week arrangement Brittany and Quinn made for her was actually a good thing, because for the whole duration of the week he kept her company and it was the best time she had ever experienced in her entire life. His kisses and his touches sent an illicit thrill down her spine, and it made things all the more difficult for her because he was so irresistible. They drink, they dance and the aftermath sex was like the cherry on top. By the 3rd day, they began talking.

"You know, I've been wondering about this, but, aren't you too young to be a widow?"

"Well you're too nosy for a gigolo."

"Excuse me? I'm not a gigolo, I'm an escort."

"I hate to burst your bubble meerkat but really, those two are fucking the same."

"Not in this lifetime Mrs. Wellington" He pulled her impossibly close to his body. He let her sit on his lap. He stroked her face with the back of his hand.

She leaned in towards his touch, but still didn't show any sign of weakness around him. Oh he's good. But she's better. Santana clicked her tongue in disapproval, "I thought we already established this Mr. Smythe? I go by Lopez. L-O-P-E-Z." She invaded his personal space, her breath fanning his face. "Just kiss me."

"Gladly."

Being Santana's company was his most wonderful assignment as of yet, aside from the fact that he managed to avoid the old hags that kept on requesting him, he found Santana's company rather delightful, her snarky and bitchy attitude amused him all too much, and her quick wit against his own was something he definitely appreciated, or maybe it was her cat-like eyes, gleaming under the strobe of lights when they dance together, or how soft her hair feels like whenever he threads his fingers through them, or the way her face crinkles and her dimples appear by her cheeks when he cracks up a joke that made her laugh. Maybe it was her voice, because whether she laughs or moan or whisper, her voice sounds alluring and melodic that he'll never without a doubt grow tired of listening to it all day.

Santana, on the other hand felt a connection between them, their lifestyle, was always a means to the end, manipulation and submission, and it's always the former for them. The power play is what makes the game exciting for them, because they both knew how it feels to be the one to have the last laugh.

Talking with him was one she never expected to happen, the life she led before all this, and the life she once had before succumbing to the pressure of making herself a prized wife for money, how she never fell in love and planned to stay that way. But he understood her; he knew the harshness of society for people like them, for swearing off love as if it was the ugliest thing in the world. He knew about it, because for both of them, it was a plan set in stone.

However, the plan seemed like a blurred picture with Sebastian around.

* * *

It was their last night together, and she felt the need to change the setting, and not let this contract be confided inside the 4 walls of that suite. She requested for a change of scenery for their parting ways, and for some reason she found herself lying on the grass, underneath the stars, with Sebastian pressed to her body. It was like a cliché romantic movie really, but she mentioned it one time to Sebastian that aside from all the pretenses of not believing in love, she's a bit sucker for the cheesy stuff and her heart _freaking_ fluttered when she found it he did all this for her.

"It's our last night together, Seb."

"You make it sound like one of us is going to die."

"You might as well put it that way." Santana sighed, and put her arm around Sebastian, hugging him. "I'm going to take Charles' position tomorrow."

"Hmm. That's great." And Sebastian doesn't say anything more, because he knew where this would lead to, and he hates himself all the more because he _knew _this would happen, but hevstill let himself grow attached to this Latina that suddenly appeared at his life and made his walls crumble in a blink of an eye.

"Can I still see you though?" Santana fidgets, because before she even thought through things those words suddenly went flying out of her mouth and she sure as hell can't take it back. She cringed at the idea of his answer because she expected his mocking tones towards her.

Then there it was, the relief passing over his face when those words came out of her mouth. He kissed her forehead. "I'm always at your service princess."

They never realized that tonight, their "relationship" was already at its turning point.

* * *

Santana goes out to see him every other day, she makes it a point to hold her meetings near his area, and she waltzes in at the lobby whenever the whole thing is over. He was there, and he was constant, and she was happy and satisfied.

Their arrangements was something Sebastian can get used to, ever since Santana, he makes it a point to skip the days he knows she won't be there. It became a sort of habit, and but he never noticed it until Nick called him.

"Sebastian! Where are you?"

"I feel like skipping work today."

"What? Is this because of Santana again?"

Santana's name caught Sebastian off guard. "I don't know what you're talking about. I can skip work whenever I feel like it."

"I'm calling bullshit Smythe, you only come in when she's here, and you only talk to her now, you ignore every other guest we have. You can't catch feelings man, that's worse than getting the flu. You know how it ends, tragic."

"You know what? That is what I'm calling bullshit. I have never fallen in love, and never will. I'm coming in right now just to show you that Smythe does not, nor will ever do feelings." And Sebastian got alarmed, because what Nick said had all been true, and he can't afford feelings, ever.

30 minutes later Sebastian was already striding down the lobby, winking and flashing his winning smile down the guests. A minute or two later, there was already a brunette in a green dress clinging on his arm, and with that, Smythe was back in the hunt.

They weren't supposed to meet that night, but she wanted to see him here, and there was no explanation why, but she just does. He was sitting there, by the lobby, drinking wine, exuding an aristocratic aura; that makes him more attractive than he's ever been. But then this woman in a green dress comes in and sits on his lap, and grabbed his face and kissed him. Santana's blood ran cold, she saw him _smile_ in between their kisses and his hands pulling her waist and that's when the world got dark. The wine glass she held in her hand dropped, and the shattering of the glass sounded fuzzy as she felt the blood rush in her ears. She spun on her heels before they even looked at her direction. She walked faster than usual, despite that her legs felt wobbly and might give out any time. She felt stinging on her eyes but ignored them, it was only then that she was inside her car that the tears just come streaming down like a waterfall down her face, and she couldn't stop it.

Sebastian heard a glass shattering not far from their direction, and he pulled away to see what it was all about, the only thing she saw was a woman in red, striding down the hall in a fast pace. He noticed her dark hair and thought it was Santana; he abruptly stood and pushed the woman off his lap, just to make sure who it was, because he felt guilt and even he couldn't explain that. Before he managed to get far, he felt someone tug at his jacket, "Where do you think you're going?" He stopped dead on his tracks because that question made him feel like he was splashed with cold water. He turned around, his mask back on, "Nothing darling." He was going to call her later on.

That night, he went to call on her, just to get the nagging feeling off his chest. She picked up at the second ring.

"Smythe?"

"Reporting for duty ma'am," and even if she couldn't see it, he still made a saluting pose.

"So why did you call?" her voice hinted with curiosity.

"I'm just going to be forward about it, did you come see me today?"

"What?" And Santana felt her voice falter, because the image burned through her mind, and she didn't want to remember all that just yet.

"I asked if you went to the hotel today."

"I didn't." She seethed through her teeth, the lie coming out more naturally than she imagined it to be. "Was there something that I should be seeing there?"

"It's nothing." And he sighed because there was a system of relief that washed over him, he didn't get why he felt the need to explain himself, because it wasn't cheating if you don't do feelings and hell, he was an escort and they this eccentric pair that will never believe in love, but he did and he wanted to.

"So I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Mhm." She hummed in her breath because if she did anymore talking, it could end badly. She hung up quickly before hearing his words of goodnight that tasted like honey laced with poison.

The next night, they meet up; Sebastian greeted her with a kiss.

"Hey," And he smiles, oh and it was such a genuine smile.

"Hey," Santana replied, and she couldn't quite look him in the eye, because she knew those eyes he has been killing her on the inside. Her decision has been made and she knew this is the best for them.

That night, for the first time, Santana was the first to get up and the one to leave him a note.

_We're done._

_-SL_

Santana never met with him again. She never returned his calls, or text messages, that it drove him crazy; giving him sleepless nights, momentary delusions of thinking it was Santana either because of the hair or the skin. It was mental torture.

Her smell, her voice, her light-feather touches, it haunted him in his sleep.

* * *

Fate has other plans of keeping them together.

He met her, outside the building, as he was getting ready to go home. The air got knocked right out of his lungs, because this time, it is her.

He grabbed her wrist, "Santana. Wait."

Santana's breath hitched, because he was there, still beautiful as ever, and under his touched she nearly gave in. But he's not hers and she'll never be his, and that made the heartache hurt even more. His touch spread jolts through her body, and before she forgets to breath she pulled herself out of his grasp. "There's nothing to talk about."

"You disappeared all of a sudden, I was worried."

At his words, Santana nearly crumbled, because she wanted to believe his words so damn much, but the image of him and bitch in the green dress flashed before her eyes, and she remembered everything she set in stone after she stopped crying. She was a fool to _–god forbid_ fall for him. He was a gigolo, an escort, and it was the biggest mistake to fall for him. Because he'll never return her feelings, and it felt like he was rubbing salt on her wounds after her statement that love would never be part of the Santana Lopez equation, because she did, and she fell hard, on the man she'll never get to have.

She laughed bitterly at the irony of all these. "Excuse me? I get to disappear whenever I fucking want, because I can. What's gotten you so worried? Afraid that mommy's not here to sprinkle some cash on you? I'm pretty sure there are a whole lot of women out there to shower you with their bling. Like I don't know, that bitch sucking out your face the other day seemed to be wearing lots of them to keep you for a week."

Sebastian was surprised she mentioned his latest customer, "So it was you," he murmured. "Look Santana I –"

"You know what? Save it. Because who you fuck is none of my business, you're a whore, and I get that. This thing between us is just sex, nothing more. And I ended that because I got bored." She crossed her arms, looked at her fingers to avoid his icy stare that will make her cave in. "I don't suppose you fell for me, or did you?" The words she belted out to him stung her deep in the heart, because she wanted him to leave and this is the only way she knew how. She spun on her heels, because being with in the same room with Sebastian was suffocating, and she needed to learn how to breathe properly again, but his grip was strong, and she can't walk away, and she already felt the stinging on her eyes.

"I'm not going to let you walk away from my life again!" He half-yelled, because he knows that watching her walk away is going to hurt more than the time she left him that note. "I left my work that day, you know?" That note clearly said you got tired of me, and I'm not sure if I can stand seeing you hook up with the other escorts over there, so I left, because I was a coward." Then he chuckled, the bitterness evident in his voice. "I was the heartbreaker, and I leave hundreds of notes like that one you gave me, but I didn't know that it can drain you emotionally like that."

And his words were the least of the things he said. "But I did. I fell for you and I fell hard." He grabbed her face and kissed her passionately, pouring out all the emotions he'd felt during the time she left his side.

She knew she won this time, his heartbreak evident on his face was all it took for hers to shatter as well, but his words surprised her, suddenly he grabbed her and crashed her lips into his that everything in this world felt right once more. She pulled on his jacket, in attempt to push him, but her hands said otherwise and pulled herself closer to him. She was ached for his taste, and this one kiss isn't enough to satiate her hunger for him. She pulled away the moment the need for air became evident, she was still pulling his jacket close to her, then she cried, and she can't stop the tears this time. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Sebastian cupped her face and wiping the tears with his thumbs, he kissed her again, and "I was going to ask the same." he whispered, his lips hovering above hers, just centimeters away from her. He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose.

Santana closed her eyes as he kissed every inch of her face, his soft lips against her skin was soothing the pain she carried ever since she left him, and this time, she took the risk and said the one thing that's been nagging her mind. "I fell for you too you asshole."

And he smiles, his ear-wide smile that just melts Santana's heart. "That makes the two of us."

This time, the only notes they left each other were ones that only said "I love you", because they never leave the other by the bed alone, for they wake up together, this time.

* * *

**This got too long for my liking, because I** **kept editing and rewriting and during the first few attempts of writing this thing I was literally frustrated and on the verge of crying. But I hope you guys liked it. **

**DWTD is on hiatus as of now, atm I'm on the process of getting my feels back because school killed my soul.**

**Reviews are as lovely as you guys. **


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